


One Night Stand

by Dara999



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Dadsbury Au, F/M, MP&C, Mistakes Promises and Compromises, Smut, inspired by an EXbuddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 11:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19250428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dara999/pseuds/Dara999
Summary: Part of my Dadsbury AU: Mistakes, Promises and Compromises.Freshly kicked out of his medical degree Wilson finds himself drowning his sorrows in fermented grapes and the carnal company of another.





	One Night Stand

**Author's Note:**

> This is smut. Do not continue reading if you don't wanna see it. It's not essential for the narrative of MP&C, just something I wrote for fun. Helps me shape the dynamics between Wilson and Quinn.

Wilson wasn’t sure what hour it was anymore, people were still talking over the table about something or another. This was his third glass of wine? Maybe his fourth... No, it was his sixth, he remembered. Probably. He usually had enough tolerance to get through these events, he usually bit his tongue and did as he was told. Smiled, waved, talked, all through his teeth. But tonight he couldn’t face his family, he couldn’t face their friends or business partners or whoever they were. He filled his glass again and again to block everything out.

“Wilson.” Who was calling him? They sounded annoyed. He was annoyed, but it didn’t make sense for him to be annoyed at himself. He gave a disinterested ‘hm’. The man across the table was looking at him. Uh-oh.

“Sorry, I didn’t get that.”

“Distracted boy, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is... He’s very intelligent but spends too much time with his head in the clouds.” His father shot him a glance while saying this, taking a sip from his own glass. That was him they were talking about, wasn’t it?

“My head isn’t in the clouds, it’s right here.”

“A sense of humour too.”

“Quite. Wilson. Tell Mr Greasain what you’re studying.”

“I’m not studying anything anymore. They refused me for the last time!”

“Wilson watch your tone. Stop being foolish and tell him.” Wilson could hear anger in his father’s voice.

“I dropped out~” He gave Ernest a smile, raising his glass to the man. “Their loss hm.” Wilson drunk the last of what was in his glass and frowned when the liquid was gone.

“You. Did. What?”

“Can I get another drink please waiter!”

“They will do no such thing! Excuse my son, he’s obviously over intoxicated. He’s studying to become a doctor, a surgeon in particular.”

“No, no. Not anymore. I’m going to be like Newton! Fuck being a surgeon.” He sneered as the sound of silverware clattering onto china was heard. His mother brought her hands to her face, horrified at her son’s behaviour.

Ernest stood up. “Wilson Percival Higgsbury you are excused from the table.”

“I don’t want to be with you pompous Neanderthals anyway! All you care about is your stupid money. I couldn’t give a single damn about all this party stuff. It’s nothing but a pissing contest!”

“Oh my lord.” Mrs Greasain opened a fan and rapidly beat it in front of her face.

“PERCIVAL LEAVE THE TABLE. NOW.” Wilson stood with a frown. Which way was the way to leave?

“Someone escort Percy to his room please.” His mother sighed, putting her head in her hands. A servant took Wilson by the arm and started pulling him to the hall way.

“Unhand me you hireling!” He pulled his arm away; he could walk himself thank you very much. “Blithering idiots...” He was a man of science! He didn’t have to put up with this! “The lot of you!”

There was silence at the table as Wilson left the room.

“I cannot apologise enough for my son’s behaviour. I’m shocked and appalled.”

“You ought to be Higgsbury!”

~~~~~

Wilson stumbled down the halls, using his hands to steady himself. Fuck them. Where was he? It wasn’t his room... His father’s desk was there... Screw him! Moving to the desk he picked up one of the books on it and threw it across the room. Wilson 1; Ernest 0.

“I wish I had the guts to tell my father to fuck off.” Wilson turned, a woman was standing in the doorway, walking towards him.

“I didn’t want to be a dumb doctor. The world is full of idiots!”

“Always telling us what to do, thinking they know better.”

“Exactly! Dogmatic!”

“Arrogant!”

“Self-centred!”

“Braindead!”

“Boobs!” Wilson laughed. It was nice to have another person to ridicule his father with, he tended to be the one getting ridiculed. For once he wished the world would stop kicking him around. He wanted another drink...

“Help me with my corset, I can’t breathe.” The lady presented her back to him and he reached for the lace holding it together. Of course he would help a young damsel in distress.

“I don’t get why you ladies have to wear these... They seem so impractical.”

“They are.” Pulling the stiff pieces of fabric apart he sat down on the corner of the desk.

“Good riddance.” He wondered if his father had left some whiskey in his study. Where would it be hiding? Wilson felt a hand on his thigh, focusing on the touch it took a few moments for him to process what he was seeing. The woman had nothing covering her chest. Alright. Maaaaybe she... dropped her clothes... “Ma’am... You should cover your breast-uh chest.”

“Call me Quinn.” She pressed herself against him.

“Quinn I... think... think you dropped your dress.”

“Didn’t like it anyway. Father wanted me to get dressed up for this dumb party.”

“I-I hate parties.”

“Me too.” Quinn pressed her lips against Wilson’s, her arms wrapping around him, a hand going into his hair roughly. This was an interesting development. Something itched deep in his brain as she groped at his hair and eased her tongue into his mouth. He should experiment with this opportunity... for science...  
He returned the gesture, mentally making notes of the sensation as their tongues touched and writhed against one another. She pulled him back, causing him to stand, he put his arms on her shoulders for stability. The young scientist then ran his hands down her sides to her waist, why did she feel so smooth? Perhaps it was the curves, creating an illusion of sorts. Did all women feel this way? A sudden pressure in his groin caused the man to gasp and pull away from the woman. When did she undo his pants?!

“Whoa, whoa!”

“What?” Her voice was breathless and full of lust, her body pulling him closer.

“You’re a very pretty lady, but what would your father say?!”

“I couldn’t care less. I hope it makes him angry.” Wilson’s father wouldn’t be too pleased with him if he were to deflower his business partner’s daughter. “I hope he walks in on us.” She took one of Wilson’s hands in her own and guided it to sit on one of her breasts. “He’ll be furious.” He’d never touched a woman before. The flesh in his hand was soft and malleable, yet firm. “Will yours?”

“W-what?”

“I want to anger my father…”

“I’m very good at that. I’m a disappointment. I don’t think mine would like this, not at all.” Yes, he would be furious if he deflowered his business partner’s daughter. Then again why did he care? His cousin was always one-upping him, making a bitter rivalry between the two heirs of the Higgsbury name. It had more to do with their fathers than themselves; who had the better son? The only reason Wilson was such a disappointment was because he hated having to hide himself behind masks! None of them cared for the pursuit of knowledge, it was all about prestige and wealth. All his father wanted was for him to be a perfect little son that did whatever he was told. The old bastard could rot in hell for all he cared! They all could!

“God your eyes are so passionate. Fuck me and we can both be disappointments.” By Jove if every other man could do it, why couldn’t he? It was theoretically simple, an essential part of life needed for reproduction in mammals. He put all his weight on her, causing her to stumble back into the wall. Messily latching onto her neck with his mouth, she moaned in his ear, causing him to suck on her flesh harder. Wilson cursed his family. Constantly putting him down, but maybe they had a point. He couldn’t keep in school, he was awkward at the best of times, he couldn’t even stay sober at dinner. He was a disappointment in every avenue. But he refused to be bad at this, oh no, he knew the female anatomy better than anyone in this damn house, he was going to deflower the fuck out of this woman. Moving his hips, the young scientist tried to find the point of access blindly. This was supposed to be easy, wasn’t it?! This was what they were designed for, who’s idea was it to make it so difficult?! Wilson moved the hand on her hip downward, feeling his way to the right location as he sucked across her clavicles.

Quinn shuddered, letting out a sigh. She hadn’t been touched before; was it the alcohol in her system or his touch that made her quiver so much? He was methodical, investigating every inch of her. His long fingers were wrapped around the circumference of her breast, massaging it as his other hand explored. He pulled away from her neck, looking rather frustrated. With shallow breaths she lifted her leg, arching her back to get a better angle. The frustration on his face melted and was replaced by something else as he finally slipped inside. She dug her nails into his scalp and shoulder, unable to stop herself crying out. It was uncomfortable, dare she say painful even, at least at first. As he eases further and further, she becomes more and more used to the intrusion; pain turning into pleasure. His hands moved to her backside, supporting her weight against the wall, but something wasn’t quite right. He moved his hand, groping for something down her thigh. What did he want? Wilson suddenly pulled her other leg up, making it so she was wrapped around his waist. He let out a heavy breath and gripped her cheeks tightly, beginning to rhythmically press her against the cold surface of the wall.

Wilson assumed that he was doing the right thing as she moaned, but he couldn’t think straight, he pressed his forehead onto her chest, sucking air into his lungs. She pushed his face further, smothering him. Air was good, he needed that. Shaking his head out of her grasp he tried to push away only to be pulled back into her, this time his mouth on her breast. _Oh my._ That was a texture. Like a new-born he suckled, causing the woman to shout something or another. He could feel his arms giving out, he wasn’t a particularly strong man and even with the wall’s support he could feel her slipping from his grasp no matter how hard he clung to her. He pulled away with a breathless gasp and used the last of his arm strength to hoist her up and onto the desk. Better. Papers were knocked onto the ground as she attempted to hold herself up. The wet sounds of fervent ecstasy filled the room, both parties singing to it with grunts and moans.

Quinn let her eyes roll back, allowing the sensation to wash over her. If her father could see her now, his precious little bargaining chip soiled, unclean and lost of its value. Maybe he should have treated her a little more human, she had desires after all and right now one of them was being filled rather vigorously. She kind of felt bad, she didn’t even remember the lad’s name. It started with a W. William? Wilfred? Wesson? It didn’t really matter now and she was too drunk to care, although she did want to cry something out. Then she remembered the other name that was called out during the night. “P-Percy!”

Wilson hated that name, a pet name used to belittle him. With a grimace he bucked his hips harshly, her hand slipping and causing Quinn to fall. She landed on her elbow, knocking a jar of ink onto the floor. This position wasn’t the most stable… they needed a better one…

“Don’t. Call. Me. Percy.” Sweat was beginning to get in his eyes at this point, he used the arm of his suit to wipe his face. He needed it off.

She shuddered as he withdrew from her, the engorged area begging for him to return. Where was he going? She wasn’t done. She wanted more. Meanwhile Wilson tore at his suit, pulling the layers of garment off. Fancy silk from some far away country. Bleh. It didn’t breathe well. He preferred something much more casual.  
Allowing the clothing to fall to the floor he faced the whining woman. There wasn’t much room to lie her down on, resuming their previous position was precarious as well. He needed more room to really get in there anyway. Taking the woman’s hands, he kissed them, going up her arm. Giving a gentle pull, she got to her feet where the scientist then spun her as if they were in the ballroom. With her back to him and arm around her, she felt him push her over, pulling his arm away as he did so, running it down her body. Quinn found herself lying face down on the desk, his hands firmly on her hips, pulling her to accommodate him. It was painfully slow, her heart wasn’t beating in her chest anymore, she wanted the same passion as before.

“Harder Higgsbury!” With a grunt he picked up the pace, his hands-with those lovely slender fingers-firmly holding her against him. She grasped the sides of the desk, feeling it shake beneath her. “H-harder!”

The pressure was screaming at him, or was it her, he honestly wasn’t sure. He had a much better position this time around, able to bring her into his thrusts. Maybe he could write a paper on pleasuring women, he seemed good at it. Then again according to some of the old text books women were incapable of feeling pleasure. He could bring this woman in moaning and mewling and they’d probably still reject him. Fucking assholes. All Wilson’s anger was redirected into his thrusts, one hand moving to hold the woman’s shoulder, arching her back as they fornicated ardently. The pressure inside him felt like an over filled kettle, its contents bubbling, threatening to spill over. The woman wailed and convulsed beneath him, the spasms of her body causing muscles to clamp onto him. He in turn felt the pressure burst. Crying out, he felt the hot contents of the metaphorical kettle pour out. All energy within his body went into the action, he couldn’t even stand up. Feeling himself fall onto the body beneath him, he could only breathe. His mind felt like the static of a radio. No thoughts. No anger. Just the sweat and heavy breathing of the two of them.  
Quinn felt much the same, a haze over her and a warmth inside her. She wasn’t sure how long they both lay there, just breathing, the evaporating sweat bringing relief to their hot bodies. Wilson was the first to move, his hissing audible as he withdrew and slumped into the chair behind them. She pushed herself up, turning around to face the man. “Not. A. Disappointment.” He scoffed at her, a smile on his face.

“You’re. The only one. Who thinks that. Guaranteed.” The hate in his system was gone, that or he was just too exhausted and drunk to care anymore. She lazily saunters over to him, taking a seat in the heir of the Higgsbury fortune’s lap. Running her fingers over his bare chest and through his hair, she groggily admired him. She brought their lips together again, a sloppy kiss that filled the room, heavy pants in between each union. Wilson brought his hand to the woman’s face, it was hot under his touch. Or maybe he was hot. They both were? He should write notes about the experience…

Quinn pulled away, looking over at her discarded attire; the cool air was starting to get to her and her father was probably wondering where she got to. Leaving his lap, she redressed and then looked over to the man. He seemed half asleep already.

“I hope I see you again.” He waved his hand at her.

“Again. The only one who’d want to see my sorry face.” She smiled. Quinn quite liked him, although she’d probably like anyone after all the wine she had. Now how did she find her way back. “How do I leave?”

“I don’t even know where I am right now… I’m just going to… sleep here… Good luck dad’s business partner’s daughter. I know I was mad but don’t tell him, he doesn’t need another reason to hate me.”

“I won’t.” Wilson covered his eyes with his hand, hearing the woman leave. How on earth did men walk away from this every time? He was absolutely exhausted…

 

~~~~~

 

A shrill scream abruptly woke Wilson from his slumber. His ears were ringing and head spinning. Who screamed? Where was he? Roughly running his hand from his face into his hair he tried to focus. It was a maid. What was she doing in his room? The maid had her hands over her face, stuttering and mumbling. His head was pounding too much to decipher what she was saying. Bits and pieces of the night flickered into his mind. He remembered being angry and upset about his degree, then having to go to his father’s political matter. The rest was a blank. How much did he drink? His stomach felt like it was doing flips, threatening to bring up whatever he had for dinner last night. It was then Wilson realised he wasn’t in his room, this was his father’s study. Why was he there?

A wave of realisation hit Wilson so hard it pulled him out of his haze. He was as naked as the day he was born, sitting in his father’s study. Springing into action he grabbed whatever paper was left on the desk and covered himself. “G-get me my gown!”

“R-right away Master Wilson!” The maid ran off and he could feel the heat burning his cheeks. How on earth did he let this happen?! He was never drinking that much ever again. Never ever.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing commissions for anyone interested. If you want something like this written that's all good with me. 
> 
>  
> 
> [My Profile: Commission prices and commission form.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dara999/profile)


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